But You Can’t Chew Gum!

One
of the first things people say the minute I tell them I live in Singapore is -
but you can’t chew gum! It’s amazing, it happens every single time (like it’s
important or something), and then of course, they wax lyrical about how clean
it is here – even if they’ve never visited. Singapore is very clean I admit,
but it’s not as clean as everyone seems to think – and I should know, I’ve
explored all sorts of nooks and crannies in this great City with my little guys.

Getting
back to chewing gum. I seem to have inherited a disorder I’d like to call
“don’t fucken chew gum within earshot of me because I’ll definitely have to
kill you.” It appears I have inherited this gene from my mother, because she
used to go nuts when any of us chewed gum within ear shot of her. This
disorder’s symptoms include an absolute irritable need to climb a wall whenever
you hear anyone smacking away on gum close by. When facing prolonged exposure, the feeling of
irritation gets so strong, you feel like the inside bits of your body need to
move onto the outside. It’s bloody awful, and once, when flying from Hong Kong
to Rome, I had a woman sitting next to me chew gum the entire flight – my
stomach still clenches up at that memory.I can’t explain it, it is what it is, so to my dear friends be warned –
I will rarely make a fuss about it, because it feels rude to do so, but I will
definitely do everything I can to get away from you. Essentially if you do feel
the need to chew gum and want my company, either spit it out or piss off well
out of ear shot.

Don’t
get me wrong, I loved having a big wad of cheek bursting Hubba Bubba bubble gum
in my mouth as a teenager, and another friend reminded me recently how I used
to go through two packs of Extra a day at work in my early 20’s. However, I
officially stopped chewing gum when I had to wear a dental plate, because
chewing gum and a plate are not a good combination. It takes ages to get the
chewing gum off the plate let me assure you. Steve told me, long after we met,
that he stopped chewing gum the minute he knew about my “disorder.” Prior to
this, he was addicted. Bless his cotton socks – that’s love.

So
for me, living in Singapore is living in paradise. I rarely encounter anyone
chewing gum, and even though it is legal to get gum on prescription and most
people bring it back into the country every chance they get, no, I don’t need
to suffer that lip smacking sound on a daily basis. It’s absolute bliss for a
person like me, so when people say but you can’t chew gum? I say isn’t that
fucken brilliant? Not to mention, you never have to clean gum off your shoes,
nor is there any risk my boys will pick up and consume a stray bit of used gum
stuck to the pavement. Excellent.

I
don’t know why I got this thing, but that saliva smacking sound from another
person chewing gum sends me into apoplexy. Anyone else suffer from the “don’t
fucken chew gum within earshot of me because I’ll definitely have to kill you”
disorder? I’d like to know I’m not alone in this...

I grew up in country Australia, went to university in Melbourne studying music and ancient history, joined the Australian Army as a musician, entered the world of public relations, and then decided to head off around the world. That was 1995 and I'm still going, having lived in London, Boston, NYC, Thailand and Singapore - with a couple of short trips back to Australia in between. Singapore-based now, with an adorable husband and two rambunctious sons, my professional background is communication strategy and content marketying, with a focus on business and creative writing. My passion is people from all walks of life, and the amazing diversity of this extraordinary planet. I reckon life is pretty great, even though it can be crap sometimes too. I also blog extensively, with three blogs - my personal blog Without the Bollocks where I talk about life, my professional blog SAJE focused on all things communication, and a kids adventure blog for Singapore. Hey what can I say, I need to write!